


The Art of Observation

by argyle4eva



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-21
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argyle4eva/pseuds/argyle4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/">Sherlock LJ Kinkmeme</a>, to the prompt, ""Sherlock f***ing John in front of a mirror."  What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Observation

**Author's Note:**

> Podfic (by [rhea314](http://rhea314.livejournal.com/)) [here.](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/art-of-observation)

"Observe," Sherlock murmurs in John's ear, his deep voice a throaty purr, "the spreading flush of arousal, the involuntary muscle spasms, the obvious secretion . . ." at the last, he flicks his thumb over the tip of John's cock, catching and spreading the bead of glittering pre-cum.

John gasps, eyes closing and knees buckling slightly, and Sherlock's hand stills immediately, digging his arm and wrist into John's side; his other arm is tight across John's chest, holding him pressed back against Sherlock's body, so tightly the other man's arousal is a tight knot in the small of John's back.

"Tch! Eyes open!" Sherlock says, humor underlying the censure. "How do you ever expect to see anything otherwise?" The hand spread flat on John's chest shifts and Sherlock gives John's nipple a friendly tweak.

Gasping, John swallows and forces his eyes back open. Sherlock is holding him upright in front of the full-length mirror hanging from the back of John's bedroom door. The image is almost too much to take in: his short, wiry body enclosed in Sherlock's long, pale arms, Sherlock's hand wrapped tightly around John's cock so that only the moist, red head is visible.

Sherlock rests the tip of his chin on John's shoulder, cat-slanted grey eyes meeting John's gaze in the mirror. A faint, smug smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth; he's enjoying this. His hand goes flat against John's chest again, the angle of thumb and forefinger elegantly bracketing the bullet scar on John's shoulder. "Better," Sherlock says. "Moving on . . ."

The hand wrapped around John's cock begins to work again, and John keeps his eyes open, wide open. He catches a glimpse of his own face, wild and desperate, as pleasure wracks his body.

"The flush continues to spread," Sherlock says, "it covers the neck and has almost reached the sternum. The abdominal muscles are tightening, breathing is ragged, testicles are --" his hand squeezes John's balls briefly, consideringly "-- tight, very tight. All the signs indicate the subject will achieve orgasm . . . right . . . about . . . _now_." As the last word leaves Sherlock's lips, John comes, hard, his knees buckling in earnest.

Sherlock's arm around his chest supports him, keeps him upright while Sherlock's long, talented fingers milk every last spasm from John's cock. When it's over, John opens his eyes (mildly disappointed to find he's closed them after all), happy to just hang there, limp, as he regains his breath.

"Excellent," Sherlock rumbles in his ear. "A textbook demonstration." He grins at John's reflection, the happy, genuine smile so few people see. John, still breathing hard, has to smile back into the mirror. His legs are firming under him and Sherlock can feel it too, because without warning he releases John and spins him around, grabbing the flannel waiting on John's bed. He cleans John with a few quick, efficient swipes, and John is still feeling too amazingly, post-orgasmically good to even feel annoyed at being treated as if he can't look after something so simple himself.

Sherlock spins John back so he's facing the mirror again, giving him a small, firm _stay right there_ pat on the shoulder, then with a cheerful bounce, hops in front of John, exchanging their positions. His eyes are sparkling, and he's still grinning. He's also ragingly hard.

"Now," he says, trying to sound stern and professorial, but with delighted, we're-having-an adventure glee bubbling up. "It's time to show me what you've learned."

John wraps his arms around his colleague and repeats the lesson back, earning (to his delight) full marks.


End file.
